


Orange Cat

by SpinningYarns



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:53:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28456389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpinningYarns/pseuds/SpinningYarns
Summary: Boots and Crutchy adopt a cat together!
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	Orange Cat

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Newsies Winter Holiday Exchange 2020!  
> The prompt was, simply, "Boots and Crutchy interacting, any era". The plot was inspired by my newest roommate, a tabby cat who may be part garbage disposal.

The nice thing about selling papers in December, Crutchy reflected as he paused in the entrance to the Newsboys Lodging House, was that everything looked so festive. The farther you got into the month, the more you saw Christmas trees and garlands of branches, and berries. The farther along you got, the kinder people were and the more likely they were to tip you a little something; Here, son, happy holidays, they would say and there came an extra penny to put aside for the leaner days of January and February.   
The unfortunate thing about selling papers in December, on the other hand, was that it was so cold and only likely to get colder. Crutchy leaned against the bannister before he attempted the stairs and rubbed his knee. His joints didn’t like the weather and they would go on not liking the weather until sometime in late March when things started to warm up. It was almost enough to put you in a bad mood, and sometimes it did, even though Crutchy was usually a cheerful person. Everyone has their days.   
He was sighing and steadying himself for the journey up the stairs when the door opened again with a swirl of blowing snow and Boots hurried inside, stamping his feet on the rug to knock off the last of the snow.   
“Heya, Crutchy!” he said cheerfully, “How’s selling?”  
Crutchy shrugged. “You know,” he said. “Good, but cold.”  
“It sure is.” Boots was holding his coat shut tight, even though it was fairly warm- Kloppman was good enough to keep a fire going. He said he never liked to see his boys freeze indoors, that it felt like an insult to him as a provider. Boots had always liked Kloppman, who tried to look stern but did things like that, keeping the fire going all day even though it was expensive, or floating them the money for a bed when they were sick and “happening by” with soup until they felt better.   
“You need a hand?” Boots asked Crutchy who shook his head.   
“Nah, but thanks anyway.” Boots just nodded and waited patiently as Crutchy took the stairs up to the bunk room.   
When they got inside and headed for their bunks, Crutchy couldn’t help but notice that Boots was acting… a little odd. He didn’t want to be nosy, so he went over to his own bunk and stretched out, letting the warmth from the room sink into his cold hands and feet.   
Boots, meanwhile, was at his own bunk with his back very purposely to Crutchy, doing something furtive. He sat, huddled over, and when he heard a small noise, Crutchy wondered with a start whether Boots was upset. He had seemed all right downstairs, but maybe he was like Crutchy and preferred to show the world only his more cheerful side.   
Sympathetic to this tendency, Crutchy asked tentatively, “Boots? Do you want to talk about it?”   
“No!” Boots said, sounding more alarmed than Crutchy thought he needed to. “I mean, I’m fine, it’s just- oh darn it.” Boots’s shoulders sagged and he sounded mildly annoyed. Crutchy was about to reply when Boots turned around and laughed and Crutchy followed his gaze to the floor, where a small orange kitten was making its way directly toward Crutchy.   
“Orange Cat! Bad girl,” Boots said plaintively, clearly not meaning it. “I told you to stay put!” But Orange Cat was not having any of it and she trotted happily over to Crutchy’s bed and hopped up.   
“Sorry,” Boots said, “she’s not, like, stepping on you is she? I can-”   
But Crutchy was laughing too hard to mind and it wasn’t as though Orange was heavy enough to hurt him. She put her paws on his shoulder and began sniffing his face curiously, just happy to make a new friend. Crutchy pet her head and let her whiskers tickle his face until Boots scooped Orange back up and held her close.   
“You’re supposed to stay with me!” he scolded her, sounding delighted. “Silly girl! Kloppaman is nice, but I don’t think he should catch you here.”  
“Let me help you hide her,” Crutchy suggested. “She could stay in my bag part of the time while I’m selling.”   
Boots considered this for a moment and then nodded. “I could use the help,” he said. “But we can’t keep her a secret forever.”   
The boys fell silent as they considered this. Crutchy was mostly thinking about how exciting it was to have a pet, even one he was only sharing, but Boots was mulling over the implications of bringing Orange home in the first place, and how he could keep her long term.  
“We have to get the other fellows on our side,” he said finally.   
“Huh?” Crutchy was petting Orange again and Boots realized that he hadn’t verbalized the train of thought that had led to the comment.  
“If the other fellows want to keep her too, maybe Kloppman will let us,” he explained. “But we need them all to be on our side, even the ones who like dogs better. She’s as good as a dog! Aren’t you, beautiful Orange?” He scratched the kitten under the chin and she purred and closed her eyes.   
“How are we gonna do it, though?” Boots wondered aloud. Suddenly, Crutchy snapped his fingers, making both Orange and Boots jump slightly.   
“We’ll spring it on everybody at once! Then Kloppman can’t say no- not to all of us!” Boots mulled this over for a minute and then nodded.   
“At midnight on New Year’s Eve,” he suggested and then amended it to, “Well, maybe a little before midnight.”  
“Good idea, if we want the little boys to be awake for it.”   
And just like that, they were off and away, planning for the big reveal on the 31st. It was the perfect date for it, really. The Lodging House traditionally had a party in the evening because, unlike on Christmas day, the boys were long done selling by the time they wanted to enjoy themselves.   
So Boots and Crutchy didn’t have to worry about where the food was coming from; there was an Aid Society that usually brought them a nice dinner. Lots of older ladies in those big sleeves and hairpins that threatened to pop out (and sometimes did, which the boys watched for with great anticipation both because it was funny and because Racetrack usually had a bet going on how many pins they would find later). They would swoop in sometime in the late evening with their household staff carrying trays of hot food and they would lay the dishes down and retire to their own homes, chairy accomplished.   
Then, in order to attempt to instill some sense of manners, Kloppman would have the younger boys set the table and the older ones set out napkins, pour glasses of water, and supervise hand- and face washing and hair combing. He always insisted that the boys dress in whatever was their nicest clothing, although he never passed judgement on what that might be. Usually it meant that the boys took care to wash their shirt or brush the dust off of their shoes. A couple of them owned bowties.   
Then the whole lodging house would sit down for a heart meal that they didn’t even have to pay for. It was perhaps the best one they ate all year, and when it was over Kloppman organized a few games and a small talent show.   
That was where Boots and Crutchy planned to introduce the cat. They would just explain that they had a talent they wanted to share and then they would bring Orange out on stage and show the other boys… well, mostly how cute she was. Boots hoped that she would have some kind of talent, but they were at a complete loss what that might be.   
“Cats like to catch mice, don’t they?” Crutchy had offered. Then he had considered the pandemonium that would ensue if Orange so much as found a mouse indoors, never mind if she killed something in front of the little boys.   
“We’ll think on it,” Boots had promised. “While she’s out selling with us, we can watch her for signs of talent.” 

With the talent show only three days away, they would have to work fast. Crutchy and Boots took adjacent streets for the next morning’s edition, not least because Boots had Orange in his satchel, hidden next to some papers. He kept his hand in his bag to make sure that she had enough room, but also to keep her warm and pet her.   
“How is she?” Crutchy hissed under his breath as he and Boots passed each other and took a breath between shouted headlines.   
“She seems cozy enough,” Boots shrugged. “I think she’s asleep.” They leaned over Boots’ bag and peered in. Sure enough, Orange was curled up with a paw over her face and Crutchy could swear she was snoring, just a little.   
“Should have called her Kid Blink,” Boots joked and Crutchy grinned and moved away before anyone caught them in cahoots.   
It would have been a little easier, Crutchy thought, if he had shared this secret with someone he knew better than he knew Boots. All the boys were friendly with each other, more or less, but some spent more time together than others and Crutchy was usually closer with Jack, while Boots spent more time with Snipeshooter. So while it wasn’t actually suspicious that Crutchy and Boots were meeting up, it was odd enough to attract some notice and they wanted everything to be a secret.   
At lunch that day, Crutchy left Jack early to “get a good spot in line” and then snuck down an alley to go meet Boots for a kitten hand-off. As he scooped the kitten into Crutchy’s bag, Boots reflected that it was one of the most disreputable-looking things he had ever done and that he had better not try to enter a life of crime, because he probably wouldn’t be very good at it.   
As for Crutchy, he had Orange securely in the bag and was trying, with only mixed success, to keep her from climbing up his arm. Apparently, she had gotten enough sleep with Boots that morning and wanted to play. Maybe climbing would be her talent for the show? Even worse, after that lie to Jack about being early in line to buy the afternoon edition, he had showed up late and was one of the last to get his papes. Crutchy tried to look innocent and ignore the confused looks Jack was giving him.   
Crutchy managed to keep Orange in his bag while he sold the afternoon edition, but only barely and he wound up with a few scratches on the back of his hand by the time he gave her back to Boots.   
“Sorry about that,” Boots said when he saw. “You can have her tomorrow morning.”   
“Thanks,” Crutchy said, and shrugged. “At least she’s cute.” Boots grinned and gave her one last pet before tucking her in his bag. 

That night, the two boys made sure to be the first ones back to the lodging house, which required a great effort to get their papers sold quickly. Boots clattered up the stairs, hugging Orange on his shoulder so that she wouldn’t bounce around in the bag and get scared (or put her claws in his leg, as she had when he had forgotten and started running) and Crutchy ascended slightly more slowly and sat down on his bed to give his leg a break.   
“Have you thought any more about her talent?” he asked Boots.   
Boots shook his head. “Not much,” he said. “Maybe she wants to chase a string? I let her chase my shoelace before lunch and she liked that.”   
“I thought she could try climbing, too,” Crutchy suggested, but it sounded a little silly as he said it.   
“They’ll love her no matter what,” Boots said loyally, “even if she doesn’t have a talent.” 

That was probably lucky, as the boys saw no discernible sign of talent in their cat over the next two days. They both became inordinately fond of her and happily passed her back and forth between them whenever they met, just to keep her interested. Crutchy found Boots showing Orange the headline one afternoon, and Boots found Crutchy with a small stack of unsold papers, dangling a string for Orange to chase.   
As far as their friends were concerned, however, the two were acting in some very strange ways and it was only the fact that their circles of close friends had very little overlap that prevented more newsies from putting two and two together and realizing that Boots and Crutchy together were up to something.   
Even though it had only been three days, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep Orange hidden. She had become totally comfortable with Boots and Crutchy both and wanted to have a look around New York City instead of staying safe inside their bags. Then, at night, she wanted to sleep on their beds and not stay in the box Boots had set up for her under his bunk.   
The first night had been so easy, Boots thought, with all the world-weariness of a new parent who was used to more sleep. Orange had stayed in her box on the towel he had put there for warmth. Now that she had relaxed, she wanted to come out and wander and Boots was up repeatedly in the night to put her back in her bed and pet her until she fell asleep. Giving her milk right before bed seemed to work, but Boots slept only fitfully while he kept an ear open for her. Thank goodness the room was so loud anyway. A little mewing was easily lost in the cacophony of snores and mumbling. 

At last the big day arrived and the boys almost forgot about the talent show in their excitement. They sold their papes, passing Orange back and forth as usual, and they were both relieved they no longer had to find excuses to leave lunch at odd hours. They were running out of reasons and Crutchy had resorted to claiming stomach discomfort and high-tailing it in the direction of a lavatory, which was downright embarrassing.   
Between the odd looks their friends were giving them and Orange’s determination to claw through as many papes as possible, both boys were ready to… well, let the cat out of the bag, as it were.   
Before dinner that night, while the other boys were getting themselves cleaned and combed (or shepherding the younger ones through the same process), Crutchy and Boots carefully combed Orange’s fur and tied a soft ribbon in a bow around her neck.   
“She’s beautiful,” Boots declared, a proud father.   
“Very cute,” Crutchy agreed, smoothing her tail. He clapped Boots on the shoulder. “Okay, let’s go eat.” 

It was harder to sit still through dinner that year than it had been in the past, but the boys did all right. It was hard to turn down a ham and potatoes with lots of cheese and even the green beans, which had been made with bacon. They were so stuffed that the whole lodging house, a group of boys who had never in their under-nourished young lives turned down a mouthful of food, voted to hold off on dessert until after the talent show when they felt they would be able to do the pies and cakes better justice.   
The talent show went fine, although Boots and Crutchy barely noticed it. There was the usual questionably talented singing, somebody who thought he could juggle and somebody who told the worst jokes available. While everyone was groaning at the jokes, Crutchy winked at Boots, who slipped out and up the stairs to retrieve Orange.   
When he came back down, Kloppman was watching him suspiciously and, after a second, so were the other boys.   
“Boots?” Kloppman asked, raising an eyebrow. “Would you like to share your talent?”  
Boots looked uncomfortable, but Crutchy nodded at him encouragingly and waved a string where he thought nobody but Boots would notice.   
Somebody else definitely noticed, though, and before Boots could catch her, Orange Cat gave a dainty meow and leapt out of his bag to play with the string her good buddy Crutchy was clearly offering her.   
There was instant pandemonium. Somebody shrieked in surprise and several newsies gasped in unrestrained delight. Orange was focused on the string and was halfway to catching her prey when somebody caught her up for an unwanted hug. With a slight application of her claws, she launched herself back towards her toy, leaving the unlucky cat-fancier in her wake, laughing. It hadn’t hurt, and what had he expected anyway?  
Once Orange had caught the string and was curled up holding it in her mouth and looking very self-satisfied, the room finally quieted into a chorus of “awww”s and “ps-ps-ps” from Newsies gathered around adoring her, as Orange Cat clearly felt she deserved.   
That was when Boots and Crutchy remembered Kloppman. Their whole plan to present the cat to him in a dignified and responsible manner, proving they should be allowed to keep a pet, was completely ruined. They looked first towards each other and Crutchy shrugged in resignation. Boots reached out unconsciously to pet Orange, who leaned her head into his hand and purred. Then they gathered their courage and looked up.   
Kloppman was laughing. Crutchy and Boots exchanged another, slightly more hopeful, look.   
“Did you really think I didn’t know he was here?” Kloppman asked.   
“Er- she,” Boots corrected him.   
“Oh, very sorry- did you think I didn’t know she was here?” Kloppman tried again, but clearly they hadn’t. The surprised-but-guilty looks on their faces told him everything he needed to know and he laughed until the Newsies thought he would burst.   
It was all uphill from there, as far as Boots and Crutchy were concerned. As it turned out, Kloppman liked cats and had no problem keeping Orange Cat in the lodging house, provided the boys cleaned out her litter tray on schedule. She was allowed to prowl around and accept scraps from the boys’ plates as they ate the pies and cakes. The next day, there was a soft bed for her in front of the fireplace and it became a matter of pride for Orange Cat to sleep on your feet at night. Boots and Crutchy traded notes later, though, and determined between themselves never to brag that she slept on their feet more than anyone else’s.


End file.
